Breakfast at Gunsmoke
by Tazo
Summary: It's the old song. If can't get what you want, you can get what you need. What do you need Vash? And do you really know how to get it? Birthday fic for MTS


Written as a belated birthday fic for MTS and used here with her permission. Direct spoilers for "Fifth Moon" (How July was destroyed), vague spoilers for the whole series. (Why July was destroyed). Set sometime mid-series.

Trigun is owned by Yasuhiro Nightow and a mess of distrbuting and production companies

* * *

"Why?"

Vash looked towards Wolfwood as his morning practice routine was interrupted. "Why what?"

"Egg," Wolfwood responded.

Vash looked down to see that he was about to miss the egg he had been catching on his revolver. With a speed that Wolfwood couldn't even see, Vash moved his gun to stop the egg's fall. He grinned and removed the egg from the gun.

Wolfwood yawned and reached for his cigarette pack on the table. He lit a cigarette and breathed in deeply.

Vash cracked several eggs into a frying pan and started to fry it over the stove in the small suite he and Wolfwood were sharing. "Why what?" he said as he put some on some toast.

Wolfwood looked up at him blearily. "Hmm?"

"You asked me why. Why what?"

"Oh. I was wondering why you train so diligently."

"So do you. I've never seen a human bench press so much. It's kind of scary."

Wolfwood shrugged. "I have to. If I don't my skills will get rusty. I was more wondering why you even _bothered_ to learn all your gunmanship abilities when you're always spouting that 'Love and Peace" nonsense."

"So says someone who follows the teachings of a man who's most famous saying is 'Love thy Neighbor'," Vash retorted as he started making coffee.

"Touché. But I didn't have a choice. Violence came to me early in life. What made you _chose_ to be a gunman?"

"Well, I kind of had to, didn't I? I mean, with people always chasing me for money! I had to be able to defend myself!"

"And why are people always chasing you?"

Vash's face grew solemn. "Do I really have to answer that?"

Wolfwood stubbed his cigarette out in an ashtray and lit another. "Yes."

"Because of Lost July."

"And did you cause Lost July?"

"It was my Angel Arm that-"

"I know it was that it was your Angel Arm," Wolfwood said, taking a drag on his cigarette. "But that's not what I'm asking. Did you cause it?"

Vash mechanically flipped the toast over and continued to cook it. "No. _He_ did."

"And why did you go to July in the first place?"

"I had to meet someone. Someone who might have known _her_. Someone who might have been able to tell me what to do about _him_."

"Mmm, and where did you get the gun that you train with so diligently?"

"… _He_ gave it to me."

"And really, why do you train so diligently with it?"

"…Because _he's_ still out there. Because _he's_ training just as diligently. Because _he'll_ kill me if we fight. I need to train to be better than _him_ to beat him and his desire to kill."

"Ah. There's the rub. So you've lived your life, no, you've built you're entire existence in reaction to _him_?"

Vash stopped as he was pouring out cups of coffee. "I hadn't thought of it like that."

Wolfwood yawned and stubbed out his cigarette. He got up and started collecting plates from the cabinet. "Well you should," he said as he started to distribute pieces of toast onto each of the four plates. "Because that's what you're doing. And it's no way to live. You have to act for yourself. Take the offensive. Otherwise, you'll never get what you want in life, or even what you need. You'll just wander from day to day, always basing your life on someone else's whim." He slid a fried egg onto each piece of toast and started to carry the plates to the table.

The doors on the other side of the room opened and Meryl and Millie stumbled out, still in their pajamas.

"Father Wolfwood, do you think that you could put a shirt on?" Meryl said. "I know it's early, but really."

Wolfwood smiled as he started to put the plates out around the table. "We'll call it to a vote. Everyone who wants me to put on a shirt, raise their hand."

Meryl sat down and languidly raised her hand.

"Everyone who doesn't mind me not wearing a shirt at breakfast?"

Mille and Vash raised their hands.

"Motion carried. Shirt stays off."

Vash came by and started to hand out coffee cups. "Let's see… Nick. Me. Millie. And no milk and two spoons of sugar for Meryl, right?"

"Guess you can do something right," Meryl said as she sipped at the coffee Vash handed to her.

Wolfwood was about to reach for his toast when Millie smacked him on the hand. "Mr. Priest, shouldn't we say grace first?"

"Oh yeah. Right. Lemme think… Alright, I've got it." Wolfwood bowed his head slightly. "Good Lord, bless this meal and those who made it. Bless those who partake of this meal and protect them on their journey. May we the strength to take the first step on our journeys. May we get what we want in life, but more importantly, may we get what we need first. Amen."

"That was fantastic Mr. Priest," Millie said, as she reached for her breakfast.

"I thought you might like it Big Girl," Wolfwood said, grinning.

"Too bad you stole it," Meryl said as she drank her coffee.

"I didn't steal it. I'm merely referencing the work of a greater wordsmith than I."

Meryl snorted. "Yeah, right."

Vash stared down at his breakfast, then looked up at the people eating it with him. "What I need, huh?" he said, smiling.


End file.
